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2002-11-11 - 11:31 a.m.

first off, why would you advertise your journal on a banner, it's so fucking weird.

Anyways, I had written this big long winded entry about my date friday with Monika (the doctor/jogger) and blah blah blah, and the server crashed because Atilla, the one who's nickname is Giraffe, fuck if I know why, switched one of the machines power supplies to 110. POP goes the OFFICE.

Done, anyways, what it amounted to was this:

She is great on paper. No spark. I'll probably see her again, though, we have a good time together.

She's very much into me, I can tell, and I am enjoying her company, but nothing more, I can tell.

I'm fairly certain I won't sleep with her, and only because I don't want to be a dick, and take advantage of the situation.

Don't get me wrong, big fan of the sex.

But just once it would be nice to not be a total jackass, be totally straight with her about how I see things... and do I really need to sleep with another girl?

For what? I can TCB myself just the same, if all I'm looking for is some sort of release or physical gratification. I'm good at it. Hell, if it was an olympic sport, I'd look for corporate sponsors and start training in earnest for my country.

I'm quite patriotic.

Anyways, I'm simply not feeling it. She's great. She's educated, well-read, compassionate, romantic, very cute, jogger's body, career-minded. blah blah blah blah blah blah blah. No spark.

I'm catching drinks Wednesday with a girl who's number I got shoved into my pocket by my friend Nick, an English banker who is the World's Worst Bowlertm.

Seems he went out with a hungarian girl here, and her friend tagged along to act as translator for them. Well, said friend is apparently quite a looker and speaks great english and was asking Nick if he knew any American guys, as she was interested in dating one.

Hey! That describes me perfectly!

American Guy.

I've talked to Chloe almost every night this month.

She's rad.

She spelled her name on the phone for me, and said DEEE-Ohhhh-ARRRRRR-KKKKKK spells daddy!! and then she snort laughed and I could hear her covering her mouth exactly like her mother.

Not long till she's here, and then I'll feel alot more whole.

She has a suitcase full of toys already packed.

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this wall has no mortar
35 Years old. 1971.
Taurus. Year of the Pig. Oink
Greying. Dyes, on occasion.
Blue/Green/Grey Eyes.
5'11. Okay, 5'10
215 pounds of boy
dad. married father.
love, big fan of/in
day: sr proj manager
night: pro wrestler (grr)

Tyler Likes Games
Steven Cloud: Luminary
Sleeping Jeff's Portfolio
Chloe's Unfinished Site

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